


Innocence Is Overrated

by rebecca_selene



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:09:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebecca_selene/pseuds/rebecca_selene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hades gets more than he bargained for when he takes a trip up from the underworld.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocence Is Overrated

**Author's Note:**

> written for [roslindi](http://roslindi.livejournal.com)'s [ate the mythology & dreamt comment ficathon](http://roslindi.livejournal.com/18794.html) [prompt](http://roslindi.livejournal.com/18794.html?thread=320106#t320106) by [xx_pinkstar](http://xx_pinkstar.livejournal.com)

He met her, first, on a cloudless day (aren’t they always with beautiful women around?) when boredom overcame duty. Sunlight glinting off her golden hair beckoned him from the field’s edge.

He approached her in circles, studying, judging. Her hair spread out like a Sphinx’s wings as she twirled counter to his movements. She paused, once, facing him when he was still far enough away that he couldn’t see her eyes, and then bent down to pluck something from her mother’s soil.

She giggled and angled her face behind her curls when he greeted her, standing still beyond some undefined boundary he thought might be appropriate for a virgin goddess. (What did he know of propriety from the dead he lived among?) Her gaze travelled up and down his dark form, and then her body broke free into a dance he could hear no music for besides the wind.

He followed her, always distant but increasingly mindful of the curve of her hips when she swayed, the flow of her hair down her back when she gathered hyacinths and narcissus and irises, the white of her neck when she arched into Helios’s embrace.

He regarded the almost unknown sensation of sweat trickling down his spine with detached amusement. He decided, then, that his brother’s realm wasn’t as bad as he’d thought, and he wondered if this world affected the clean and shining girl captured in his vision the same as it affected him.

He asked, breaking the silence. She twirled a strand of hair between her fingers, glanced at the ground, and stared back into his eyes. Her lips twitched, and then she ran away.

He chased her billowing skirt through Demeter’s garden, out of breath instantly (it was cold, so cold below, and not just the temperature), until suddenly she stopped. He knocked her over with his momentum and rolled away, red-faced and chest heaving, to stand back.

She laughed, then, full-bellied just as a cloud passed through the sun’s rays. Her bouquet lay scattered around her legs, and when she looked up at him, her shadowed eyes looked more familiar than the glittering blue of just moments before.

The cloud moved on, and she leaped to her feet and ran again. More cautious, now, he kept pace behind her, curious where she might lead him.

It might have been minutes, or hours, or days…he didn’t know, but finally she stopped at a cliff wall, faced him, and said, in a voice that reminded him of morning birds, “Won’t you catch me?”

He blinked against the sunlight in his eyes. She stood several feet away in the cliff’s shadow, twirling her hair. Now, though, he could see the straight edges of her teeth and the odd bend of her body as she tilted her head at him questioningly, her chest rising and falling from exertion. She appeared dark and alone like the wraiths he ruled over. Her, though…her he was compelled to pay attention to. He stepped forward into the shadows.

The corners of her lips sharpened, and she stepped backward in time with his stride until her back met flush with the cliff’s side. He paused, expecting her muscles to twitch like a cornered rabbit. Instead, she let her hair fall to her side, stood up straight against the rock wall, and said, “No more room to run.” Closer now and out of the light, he could see an inner fire raging within her pupils.

He took another step, and she moved sideways, faster than he would have thought possible in such limited space. He went after her at full speed this time, and when he reached her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pinned her to the wall, careful not to hurt her.

She struggled against him. “I’m a goddess, not a mortal. Don’t treat me like one,” she demanded roughly enough to wear down any further reluctance from him. His body crowding hers into the rock, he grasped her wrists in one hand and stretched them high above her head while his other pulled at her hair, forcing her face to look up at his.

He bent his head to lick her neck, then, and discovered that she did, indeed, perspire. She groaned, a guttural sound that he never would have guessed the daughter of harvest and lightning would make when he first laid eyes on her dancing in a field.

But this, he found, he liked even better.


End file.
